


Once Burned

by DGCatAniSiri



Category: Star Wars Legends: The Old Republic (Video Game)
Genre: Canon Rewrite, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-25
Updated: 2019-12-25
Packaged: 2021-02-26 03:41:27
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,461
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21956815
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DGCatAniSiri/pseuds/DGCatAniSiri
Summary: Given what Kadr'idan had been through with the Republic SIS before, he doesn't exactly trust Theron Shan right away...
Relationships: Male Imperial Agent | Cipher Nine/Theron Shan
Comments: 1
Kudos: 46





	Once Burned

**Author's Note:**

> The Agent story really triggers some of my bodily autonomy issues, and Shadows of Revan doesn't deal with anything remotely resembling any of them, so consider this how I view the Agent/Theron flirting for that expansion.

If there was one thing that Kadr’idan had come to believe as a certainty, it was that the greatest enemy, the largest threat, to the Sith Empire were the Sith Lords themselves. He’d had the opinion before meeting Darth Jadus, Darth Zhorrid, and Lord Razer, among others, to say nothing of their allies and associates, and especially their enemies. Mostly because those enemies were almost certainly the others on the bloody Dark Council. Because all Empires could benefit having their leaders scheming to take their partners down and consolidate all the power among the individual, why believe otherwise?

That attitude, telling the practitioners of the Sith that they must treat all as their enemies, particularly their allies, was going to bring the Empire to its knees far quicker than the Republic’s efforts to erode their power. Of all the Darths that Kadr’idan had as of yet had the misfortune to encounter, the only one who seemed reasonably sane was Darth Marr.

Still, the Sith were the cause of the worst of the Empire’s mismanagement. Their belief that only the strong deserved to even live was not going to result in a stronger galaxy. Just a constant and bloody struggle to be the last one standing, a struggle that would only end when one person stood among the ashes and ruins of all they had burned to get there – a hollow victory at best. One would think that, with the Emperor being revealed as a genocidal maniac who wanted all life in the galaxy to die, even a few Sith would reconsider that view, and yet...

Admittedly, Kadr’idan’s opinion of the Jedi wasn’t much better. The Jedi offered the Republic a stabilizing element, to be sure, but their history was full of instances of the Jedi refusing to join the Republic’s battles unless it involved the Sith, agents of “the dark side,” all that rubbish. That lack of consideration for their supposed duty to the people – to the galaxy – that they claimed to serve... One day, it would certainly lead to their own downfall. It might take years, it might take centuries, it might even take millennia, but when historians looked back at what brought about the fall of the Jedi Order, that would absolutely be one of the leading causes.

Obviously, Kadr’idan couldn’t discount the Force as nothing but mystical poodoo, having experienced its effects on occasion, to say nothing of Ensign Temple’s ability. But the Force? It was the cause of too much of the problems that made the galaxy a tumultuous place. The Jedi, the Sith... the Force... He had no use for any of it.

Somehow, however, he’d gotten wrapped up in yet another power play of Force users. Darth Arkous’s plots, the near-simultaneous strikes on Tython and Korriban, and the agent, Lana Benkio, had drawn him into the latest mess on Manaan. Nearly trapping him in a sinking facility numerous leagues under the sea of the ocean world.

And, to top it all off, Beniko had brought in a Republic SIS agent.

Rivalry between the two groups, Imperial Intelligence and Republic Strategic Information Service, was nothing new, professional and other. Some mutterings from his fellow agents, before the Sith had (foolishly) disbanded II, even had given Kadr’idan the impression that on occasion, if they’d come across their counterparts in the other service, they’d buy a few drinks for one another, not even as a method of trying to draw out information that might be of use later – professional courtesy, the idea that one respected their counterparts, even if the game placed them on opposite sides, given the dirt they had on one another, and the fact that they undermined one another’s efforts. Wasting time with personal grudges was more likely to make you sloppy, so the go-to response was to simply treat one another with respect when not ‘on the job.’ 

That was a courtesy that Kadr’idan was not willing to extend to any SIS operative. Not after that business with Ardun Kothe. It may have been an Imperial control word that had been implanted in his brain, manipulated by Hunter and the Star Cabal, but Kothe had still been SIS, had still been the one who’d used the code phrase to turn him into a bound servant, even if it could ultimately be brought back to the feet of Hunter – Kothe had been his weapon, but had willingly let himself be so, allowed himself to be manipulated. How else could a Jedi have been used so blatantly? To say nothing of the Jedi’s own tendency to use their Force manipulation to toy with the minds of people who were an inconvenience to them. So the SIS was not his favorite band of brothers. 

To Theron Shan’s credit, he seemed to understand that Kadr’idan’s standoffishness had more to do with his associates than him specifically, held no grudges. Probably a valuable skill for an intelligence officer – oh, call it what it was, a spy – who would cultivate relationships with others only to turn on them as needed. At least Kadr’idan’s attitude was justified. Surely Shan had read reports from Kothe about the “asset” that he had “obtained” from Imperial Intelligence. Kothe had not been much for secrecy of his plans, with those in the know, after all. He’d made no real secret of being a Jedi, after all – his tendency to have his lightsaber uncovered had just been one of the more obvious tells. Kadr’idan had been suspicious early on, pretty much from the moment that he’d used the damn code phrase. Force users were so prone to mess with peoples’ minds, so Kothe had had no reason to question being given a control code on another hapless soul, after all.

Shan had shown no sign of holding Kadr’idan’s attitude towards him against him. 

What was worse, at least from where Kadr’idan stood, was that Shan’s suggestions made more sense than Beniko’s. He was frequently finding himself in agreement with an SIS agent over the suggestions of someone from whatever successor program the Empire had established to Intelligence.

It was nothing that made the Chiss Agent happy, that was certain.

He wasn’t exactly resentful of the SIS agent himself. Just... the organization that he answered to, for the way that it had used him. Sure, using people was part of the game, but it was the method as much as anything else. Taking his free will, his autonomy... Manipulation was one thing, that was making a person decide that they wanted to do what you wanted. That code word, the use of that Force “talent” of telling someone what to do... That was the imposition of will on another. 

If total victory came, as Kadr’idan believed, in convincing your enemy that you were right and they were wrong, those methods were simply admitting that you weren’t able to do that, and that meant that your position was the weaker.

There was a reason that Kadr’idan was a “free agent” at this point. He had no master but himself, even if Darth Marr thought that he was able to call on him to aid the Empire when needed. Even acknowledging that he had done so a couple of times, Kadr’idan still held the right to refuse. 

Shame he wouldn’t be able to see the look on the Sith Lord’s actual face if and when he chose to exercise that right.

At the moment, the collected group had settled in to their pirate base on Rishi. Under other circumstances, Kadr’idan would probably be debating how long until Kaliyo struck out on her own, leaving his team technically down a member. Not that she was the most reliable teammate under the best of circumstances, of course, but if any place was going to have something or someone catch her attention long enough to decide to ditch the team, it’d be here.

It was even odds for Kadr’idan if he’d be accepting of her leaving – she did currently have a lot of accumulated secrets of the Empire rattling around in her head, which made her a liability as much as an asset. Though, Kadr’idan supposed, it was likely that Lokin was also keeping track of her movements, and would probably move to handle any situation she might create if given the chance.

Despite his focus on that potential situation, as well as the issues surrounding the Nova Blades, he was still able to hear Theron Shan approaching him. The man might be an intelligence agent, but he was not soft-footed. The man was best suited, it seemed, to practical operations and strategies, rather than anything like assassinations. The right tool for the right task, and Shan was apparently a tool for singular tasks, not the kind that could adapt to the task.

He wouldn’t have lasted long as a Cipher like that. Though perhaps he was only doing so because of the circumstances – Kadr’idan knew of several agents who made every effort to shift even their body language when undercover. Indeed, he recalled the swagger that he’d put into his own disguise as “the Red Blade” all the way back on Hutta. So perhaps he was underestimating Shan’s skill.

He reminded himself that doing such a thing was always a mistake, and decided to keep an eye on the SIS agent.

“So... We haven’t really had much of a chance to talk, have we?” Shan said.

“I don’t know how much there is for us to speak about,” Kadr’idan said, not quite shrugging.

Shan took a moment, seeming to be internally debating if he wanted to have this conversation. “I know you’ve had bad experiences with the SIS. I read some of Kothe’s reports, and... Let’s just say I could read between the lines.”

It had been some time since Kothe had died (Kadr’idan tried to keep a professional distance from any kill, view them solely as utilitarian, something done in the name of achieving the goal, but he had been rather pleased with that one), but the mention from someone else of him... It sparked a light of anger in his belly. He clamped down on it, just quirking an eyebrow as he looked to Shan. “Indeed.”

“Yeah. I don’t know all the details – probably better if I don’t – but I do have to figure that what was left out of those reports was enough to give you a permanent distrust of the SIS, even if we weren’t on opposite sides of this war.” A pause, one that Kadr’idan could tell was more about him taking a breath than waiting on the other man’s reaction. “So... Thanks for believing that I’m... at least not the enemy this time.”

Fully cognizant that before long, the situation would return to them being on opposing side. Probably even acting directly against one another, especially if this operation ended up having a positive outcome for his career. 

“Lana brought you in. I’m inclined to believe she has good judgement.” He supposed there was some kind of story between the two of them that had brought them together, but truthfully, he didn’t consider it worthwhile to guess about it – Lana Beniko was, perhaps, the first Sith, the first Force user, Kadr’idan had met who wasn’t entirely foolish and given to the power plays that had driven the Empire near to ruin. She had earned the trust to believe that her efforts were genuine, if unorthodox.

And it wasn’t as if Kadr’idan had the room to complain about ‘unorthodox.’

Shan nodded, as if, for a moment, he was ready to expand, then realized it didn’t matter. “Fair enough. I’m still the enemy here, even if we’re allying about Revan, that about the whole of it?”

“A reasonable assessment.” 

It may have been a trick of the light, but... It almost looked like Shan was disappointed in the dismissal he was hearing from Kadr’idan. “I’m not saying I expected us to go for drinks at any point, but... At least for the course of business with the Revanites, maybe we bury the hatchet a little? They’re a bigger threat than either of us towards the other at the moment, so... Maybe we can keep this truce going?”

Just bringing up the unofficial truce between them threatened to rock the boat, Kadr’idan recognized. Anything that acknowledged that there was an unpleasant peace between them was potential for the end of that peace. 

Still... Kadr’idan had to respect the effort, even if he wasn’t fond of the man’s allegiance. 

“Assuming we resolve this and survive, I’ll consider our truce to last until I go to hyperspace.” It was as good of an overture of peace as he could offer at this point.

And Theron seemed to recognize it for what it was. “Suppose that’s fair, all things considered.”

Something told Kadr’idan that it wasn’t going to be as simple as that.

***

Dealing with the Nova Blades hadn’t been exactly ‘fun,’ but it had been... diverting. The gang was crippled now, unable to truly offer any resistance to any other pirate gang in the area who wanted to take their turf. 

Kadr’idan made a mental note to see about any stragglers, see if any of them might be interested in getting “involved” with the activities of “the Howling Tempests.” It wouldn’t be the worst thing to have a pirate gang at his beck and call. He’d have to stage a few incidents that solidified their reputation every now and then, of course, but there was value in the idea.

And now there were Mandalorians. 

He’d done a few jobs that had taken him into the vicinity of the Mando enclave on Dromund Kaas, so he’d taken the opportunity to do some background checks on them. To say nothing of some of the various activities of Mandalorian leaders that had caught the eye of Imperial Intelligence. There were things to respect about them. There were things that made him want to take a blaster to every one of them. 

Probably like any other organization, all things considered. 

Torch’s people were sure to want him to put up a fight. Mandos liked to test themselves in combat, and, if there was any chance of getting them to turn so completely on Revan that they’d join the fight against him, it would be in facing Torch in what would probably amount to gladiatorial combat. 

For all the complications rituals tended to offer, there certainly was something to be said for the simplicity of a lot of Mandalorian habits.

As he prepared to head out, however, Theron stopped him again. “Hey. Not that I don’t think you won’t but... Watch your back.”

Kadr’idan raised an eyebrow in curiosity at that. “Afraid the Mandalorians will eat me alive?”

“More stick a knife in your back. The Preservers were one thing, but... A lot of them these days aren’t exactly what I’d qualify as “good guys,” and...” He let out a reluctant sigh. “All right, I’m worried about you.”

That made Kadr’idan pause. Theron Shan might be a spy, having had to learn to control and manipulate emotions, his and others, but... That almost sounded sincere.

No. It DID sound sincere.

“Why would you be worried about me, Agent?” Kadr’idan asked, defaulting to suspicion, even if he wasn’t ready to believe that this was some kind of trick. He simply didn’t know Theron Shan well enough – to say nothing of the fact that his investigation of the other man’s background revealed a lineage that didn’t just include Revan, their enemy, himself, but Republic Commander Jace Malcolm and Jedi Master Satele Shan – to believe that he was wholly genuine in his concern, despite having no reason in practice to doubt it.

Theron shifted uncomfortably under his gaze. “I... You’re important, okay? You’re kinda the lynchpin of all this right now, and... I’d sooner not see you get left for Rishi’s scavengers to feed on.”

Under other circumstances, Theron’s admission might be something that Kadr’idan would try to turn into a weapon against him – it meant that the SIS agent had a weakness, more, had exposed that weakness for Kadr’idan to see – body language gave a lot away, and right now, there was that little hint that this concern was based in attraction. 

And yet... There was something to the way that the other man looked at him. Like... like he was genuinely concerned. That he wanted to do what he could to protect him.

Despite all sense of caution in Kadr’idan’s bones, he actually felt... touched at the idea, that he had already earned this degree of trust from a man who should call him enemy. Neither should trust the other, but the situation had brought them to the same side of this conflict. They were allies, if only for the moment. 

As nice as the thought was, it was quickly doused with a bucket of ice water – Hunter had been casually flirtatious with him as well. Granted, Hunter had thrown in a great deal of derision and threats into the mix as well, marking him as far different from Theron. But the flirtation had been there, even if it was less the flirtation of someone genuinely attracted to another and more of treating him like an object to toy with and enjoy the game, rather than anything genuine.

As much as he’d taken pleasure at killing Kothe, pulling the trigger on Hunter had been all the sweeter. For all the lessons he’d always received of not taking killing personally... Watching Hunter breathe his last had been something to treasure.

But the reminder of Hunter, even tangentially, was enough to kill those warm feelings. “I have a hard time trusting SIS sympathy, all things considered.” Realizing that it sounded particularly cold, even to his ear, he softened his expression. “But... Thank you for your concern.”

The first comment had hit, but the second one did make Theron seem to relax slightly, as if understanding that it wasn’t him.

Kadr’idan’s rational mind told him this was not anything that should be more than just an observation. There was a flutter in a part of him that he’d sworn to put aside that told him he wasn’t.

Wonderful...

***

In the time he’d known her, Kadr’idan had come to appreciate Lana Beniko’s skill and intelligence. She was a powerful Force user in her own right, but, unlike many various Force users among the Sith, she didn’t rely on it to the exclusion of other options. She was shrewd and competent, and understood the cost of their business.

She also had left a companion behind, and for all the practical reasons for the mission there were for doing it, Kadr’idan was less than appreciative of her actions. He knew there were times that sacrificing someone was proper to succeed in a mission, but... There had to have been a better way with this one. Jakarro seemed certain of it, and, even if Jakarro only seemed aware of the existence of the club, not the scalpel, C2-D4 had expressed his displeasure with her choices as well. Vocally.

Kadr’idan waited until the official debrief was over, and Jakarro had gone to ensure his ship was ready for the journey. He didn’t need to resort to a mundanity like grabbing her. He fixed her with a look. “Was abandoning Theron truly necessary, or simply expedient?”

“Is there a difference?” she asked, unrepentant. “Theron is tied to Revan, his descendent. Revan is characterized by how he embraced interpersonal connections, such as the one that led to his having a child with Bastila Shan. It’s unlikely that Revan would have him killed without even attempting to persuade him to his cause. Which means that Theron was useful in getting information from Revan. Information that you, I, or Jakarro would not be in any position to extract.”

Eminently logical and reasoned. It made sense. The needs of the many outweigh the needs of the few or the one. 

“It was a bad call.”

She cocked an eyebrow. “Indeed? And what makes you say as much?”

“Because you just confirmed all his fears and concerns about the Empire. Sacrificing lives in the name of expediency. A lack of concern for life. Every piece of propaganda his superiors spread about all things Imperial were just reinforced in his mind. Assuming he survives, rather than see anything about the Empire that’s worthwhile, he’ll just see your betrayal of his trust. Meaning instead of having an asset within the Republic SIS, someone who could act to preserve both the Empire and the Republic, he will prioritize Republic interests above all else.”

She didn’t seem convinced. “Theron Shan would never defect from the Republic. Nothing about him is open to conversion to the Empire’s goals. He will act to preserve the Republic, even if it means allying with the Empire. But if it came down to one or the other, it would always be the Republic’s interests that he gives his full favor to. Making him a double agent, as a concept, is a flight of fantasy.”

“And yet, you were the one who brought him in. Meaning you believed there was something to him that would be useful to the Empire. Was that simply because he seemed willing to fight the Revanites, or was there more?” 

That one didn’t get an answer. She sighed. “Perhaps it was the expedient option, over a necessary one. Still. The matter is done. Theron is a captive of the Revanites. Assuming you want to rescue him, we should get moving.”

At least there, Lana was correct.

And Kadr’idan would have to wrestle with the reality that his criticism of her plans had as much to do with a feeling of... affection towards the Republic spy.

***

“Hey, can we make a pit stop for a minute?”

Having pulled Theron from the Revanite compound, Kadr’idan had taken a speeder bike and was carrying him back to the Rishi camp that they’d established. The two of them were about halfway back when Theron made his request.

Considering that he’d been held captive for several hours now, Kadr’idan didn’t see the harm in giving him that chance. He brought the speeder to a clearing and let the SIS agent hop off as he made sure the speeder was brought to a complete stop. “Gives me a chance to more properly check this thing for bugs,” he murmured. 

“You mean you didn’t before driving it away?” Theron asked with a cheeky grin.

“It seemed more important to get away from there at the time,” Kadr’idan replied. Truthfully, he had figured that the speeder bike wasn’t likely to have any kind of tracker beyond any industry standard – if Revan was truly looking for a scorched earth policy, he’d had opportunities to shoot them down as it was. Historically, it may have been Darth Malak who’d wiped out a planet just to eliminate one single individual (and failed all the same), but that was because Revan had known when to use the scalpel and where specifically to cut. If anyone could have ordered some sort of precision strike to wipe them out, it’d be Revan.

So a tracking device wasn’t all that concerning at the moment, especially since Kadr’idan expected that, with Theron rescued, as well as Revan’s plan moving to its next stage, with the Republic and Imperial fleets likely to arrive shortly, their present base of operations wasn’t all that necessary to keep hidden. 

“How are you doing, anyway?” Kadr’idan asked. “I have some kolto patches on me, if you need them.” Occupational hazard.

Theron did a quick mental assessment. “I think I’m fine on that count. Implants are still a little scrambled, but... Not enough to be a problem. Just... need to stretch my legs properly after that little ordeal.”

The humor was a good sign. It meant that he was at least on the mend. Since Theron was stretching his legs, Kadr’idan opted to do a spot check of his weaponry. It didn’t need it, of course, but it never hurt. 

“You know, you’re somehow in a greater number of SIS reports than you’d think any good spy would be,” Theron said. It was clearly meant as a joke.

But it hit Kadr’idan in a spot – his appearance in those reports was because of the mission that had involved...

A part of his mind realized what was happening. In another situation, he might appreciate the irony of developing a trigger regarding a trigger...

Theron seemed to notice the tension that overtook Kadr’idan at the mention. “Hey. I... I’m sorry. That was-”

“A harmless comment,” Kadr’idan said, though it came out clipped. “You’re not responsible for what happened. Those who were are dead now.”

That didn’t particularly seem to set Theron at ease. “Still. I should have been more aware.”

“Why, exactly? You know as well as I, once this crisis is over, we’re going to be enemies again. It’s a valuable tactical weakness, one to exploit.” Kadr’idan did his best to speak as if he’d so casually use a similar tactic against Theron if he had the opportunity. He tried not to think about the difficulty he would likely face in attempting to do such a thing.

His words didn’t seem to get to Theron, though. “Maybe. But the fact that Republic and Imperial officers are able to follow Revan says that the sides in this war aren’t as cut and dry as they seem. So maybe the Republic and the Empire can coexist. So... Maybe I actually care about you. And maybe... Maybe you care about me.”

Kadr’idan paused. It was an accusation that hit harder than he’d expected, because he knew that it wasn’t wrong. It was, actually... something a little too close to the truth for comfort. He tried to come up with some alternative, but... No. It was true. Despite the reasons he shouldn’t, he did feel something for this Republic agent. 

“And if I do?” Kadr’idan managed to get out, softer than he would have expected. “If I feel for you... That’s a vulnerability. If you don’t exploit it, others will.” That was the life he’d accepted, the life he’d taken on. Enemies lurked in every shadow. Anything that could be used against an enemy would be.

Theron sighed, slumping against a tree. To his credit, he didn’t try to dismiss Kadr’idan’s concern. He understood the problems of their profession. There was little room for a relationship with someone from the other side. 

“Yeah, well, to hell with that.” And, abruptly, Theron crossed the distance between them, pulling Kadr’idan close and kissing him. 

And Kadr’idan found himself returning it. His hands fell to Theron’s waist, holding him close. 

When they finally separated from the kiss, Kadr’idan wanted to push the other man away as much as he wanted to keep at what they were doing. For a rare time in his life, Kadr’idan genuinely hesitated. 

Theron flashed him a cheeky grin. “So... How’s that for vulnerability?” he asked. “Seems to me... We’re on equal footing here. Because I doubt either the Republic or the Empire would be too happy about what just happened. But here we are. It did. So. I guess it’s up to you, Agent. Is it going to happen again?” There was a touch of husky desire in his voice, doing something for Kadr’idan. Things that... Well, despite his protestations, he truly did want.

Kadr’idan forced himself to step back, put even that little distance between himself and Theron. “What’s going to happen is that we return to the base camp. Speak with Lana and Jakarro. Plan our next move against Revan and the Revanites. Go from there.”

Kadr’idan didn’t know if he was afraid of Theron arguing with him or hoping he would. 

The air between them remained tense, and Theron seemed to realize what Kadr’idan was making himself hold back from dealing with matters – there was a mission to deal with, a goal to accomplish. They could deal with whatever was between them when the specter of Revan wasn’t there.

Of course, the flip side of that was that when Revan was dealt with... It would be back to their respective corners of the opposing galactic powers.

***

Things weren’t calm after that. The fleets arrived in orbit, opening fire on one another, necessitating another mission of daring resolve and suicidal bravery on Kadr’idan’s part – wasn’t he supposed to be a shadow operative?

Regardless, when the Revanites in the fleets were uncovered, so too was their plan. Resurrecting the Sith Emperor was... actually not the craziest plan that he’d heard of, though, admittedly, that was by virtue of the sheer number of insane plans he’d suffered through. Though reviving a genocidal maniac was certainly up there.

Again, he was reminded of why he firmly stood by the opinion that the greatest impediment to the Sith Empire’s conquest of the galaxy was the Sith Lords themselves. 

At least on this count, he and Darth Marr were in perfect agreement. The Emperor could not be allowed to succeed. That meant that the fleets were going to Yavin 4. What, exactly, would be of benefit to him there, Kadr’idan had no certainties, but it had been the site of power for an ancient Sith Lord once before in Exar Kun. 

Alright, he’d admit it, he could admire the Sith appreciation for poetry. What, because he was a spy, he couldn’t appreciate artistry?

Before leaving for Yavin 4, Theron pulled Kadr’idan aside. “Look... I realize that you’re concerned about all the ways things might go wrong... I just want you to consider what might happen if things went right for once.”

“I don’t exactly have experience with things going right,” Kadr’idan pointed out. History did not favor things working according to whatever plans might be imposed. 

And, Theron clearly conceded, that experience wasn’t his alone. “Yeah, fair enough. But... Look, we just forged an alliance between the Republic and the Empire. That might mean something, going forward. At the least, it says that we can recognize our combined strength. So, maybe... There’s a chance. For us all to work together again.”

He didn’t mean the Empire and the Republic. 

Still, Kadr’idan couldn’t quite bring himself to accept the idea, not so easily. “A chance for the Republic to sabotage our arrangement, hoping to beat the Empire to the punch?” he asked, raising a skeptical eyebrow. 

By Theron’s expression, he was more impressed that Kadr’idan’s tactic admission that the Empire would do the same at some point. And... Well, he’d read the reports.

“I’m not Kothe. I’m not Hunter. I’m not trying to use you. You may not believe it, but I am telling the truth. Now, you can believe that or not. You have time to mull it over. But... Just believe me when I say I’m not trying to set you up for some stupid sting operation. I’m trying to be... Well, if it’s all you’re willing to let me, I’ll be your friend. But I’d like to be more than that, and... I think you do, too. Otherwise, would we be having this conversation?”

Kadr’idan stood, considering his words. Without saying anything further, he proceeded back to his ship, already plotting the course to Yavin.

***

Most wouldn’t consider the course of events on Yavin to be very conducive to thoughtful consideration. 

Most weren’t Chiss, and even when limiting themselves to that singular pool of candidates, most still were not Kadr’idan. 

He had been left scarred by the actions of Kothe and his team. Even without Hunter’s hijacking of the trigger word, it had left him in a place where he couldn’t accept the kindness of Republic agents without assuming that they had some ulterior motive in the process. 

And, he would grudgingly admit, that was impacting his view of Theron. Theron who had been in a perfect position to hide his association with the Republic, at least for a time, and yet had openly acted only to aid him. 

Spy or not, enemy or not, so far, Theron had actually been remarkably on the level with him.

And, Kadr’idan had to admit, he was on a similar page as the other man when it came to what he wanted as well. He wanted to take even a single step forward with Theron. 

It would be doomed, of course. The Empire and the Republic were mortal enemies. Kadr’idan couldn’t picture how they’d be able to have anything more than a series of casual flings, not unless the galactic stage was massively upset and forced them both to be something other than Imperial and Republic. But... He wanted that.

When Revan and the Emperor both were dealt with – Kadr’idan wouldn’t even begin to understand the Force element of everything, that only led to headaches, and, quite honestly, he was beyond sick of anything to do with the bloody Force – Yavin began to feel unnaturally quiet. The alliance between the Empire and Republic was already fraying, the outside threat defeated meaning that tempers could flare without the outlet.

This truce would end by the time the last ship went to lightspeed, if not before.

Kadr’idan found himself regretful of that fact. There was something noble in the coming together of the two great powers to act as equals. If it weren’t for the egos involved – both Chancellor Saresh and the whole of the Dark Council – Kadr’idan might even be willing to envision a galaxy where this was the standard state of affairs, where the Republic and the Empire coexisted.

It’d at least be better than both sides shooting at each other, or waiting for the next opportunity to resume shooting at each other. 

Kadr’idan had already informed Darth Marr that he’d be the last Imperial off of Yavin – he’d been ready to go into an argument about safety of the troops, how, as he was technically a freelance operative, operating without Imperial sanction, it put the fewest Imperial assets in jeopardy when the truce ended, but Marr clearly had already seen the wisdom in such an idea and had merely nodded an assent as he issued withdrawal orders to the rest of the troops.

He made his way back into the area that the combined forces had made their command center. Already, the assembled tech had been broken back down – this had always been meant to be a temporary thing. 

It was a shame that the truce was already collapsing. When they worked alongside one another, the Empire and the Republic could accomplish many things. The bad blood was preventing much in the way of providing stability to the fractured galaxy.

Kadr’idan realized he didn’t just mean the galaxy.

Theron and Lana were exchanging a few words of farewell, Theron having mostly forgiven her for her sacrifice of him to the Revanite forces over the course of dealing with their leader. And, presumably, due to the fact that he’d come out of it intact.

As she walked away from Theron, she passed Kadr’idan a nod of acknowledgement – with their victory, the death mark that had been placed on her head had been personally removed by Darth Marr, there was even talk of her receiving some official title or another, which she’d not displayed any particular appreciation for, but it was a reward for faithful service, and she was, if nothing else, a loyal servant. 

“She’s a crafty one, that Lana,” Theron observed.

“Certainly one way to put it,” Kadr’idan murmured. He wasn’t sure how he felt about Lana – she was, after all, as much of a servant of the Force and the Dark Council, which meant that, even if she was pragmatic enough to see Imperial shortcomings, she was still a part of the ultimate problem of the Empire. He wasn’t sure if she understood the carrot as well as the stick.

They might have similar goals, but he wasn’t quite ready to say that they were on the same side.

Theron sighed. “So. The truce is already falling apart, I see.”

“It’s not surprising,” Kadr’idan said. “There’s too much bad blood between sides for this to have lasted.” He paused, considering. “At least, for now.”

That actually seemed to catch Theron’s attention, more than Kadr’idan himself had. “Really? You think this is, what, the first of many ‘truces’?”

“Perhaps. Or perhaps a greater alliance beyond Republic or Empire. If I might be allowed to channel Lana for a moment, the future is full of possibilities.”

“Hm.” Theron gave him a thoughtful glance. “I wasn’t expecting you to be so open to the idea, given... how our last few private discussions had gone.”

“Now you’re just speaking in innuendos.”

He shrugged, unapologetic. “I’m a spy. Isn’t that what all the vids say we’re supposed to do?”

Fair enough. Kadr’idan moved close to Theron, a gentle smirk poking across his face. “In that case, I’ll speak plainly with you, Agent Shan. I may have issues with the SIS and their actions, specifically against me. Those issues, I have come to realize, do not have to extend to you, personally. And if we were to... find alternative channels of communication... I wouldn’t be averse to this... interaction continuing.”

“Really...” Theron said. His hands fell on Kadr’idan’s chest, sliding up to the other man’s shoulders. “That’s... good to know.” 

Even with Theron leaning in, Kadr’idan still crossed the divide first, meeting him in a kiss. Unlike the one they’d shared on Rishi, this one was meant to be savored. They held each other close for several long moments, not wanting it to end.

They finally did pull apart, the need to breathe overwhelming the desire to continue. Still, they didn’t allow too much distance, resting their foreheads against one another. “Force... We should set up those, uh... ‘lines of communication’ and soon, huh?” Theron said with a breathless chuckle.

“Probably arrange for... personal debriefings, as well,” Kadr’idan agreed. He wished they’d have more time. But the Grand Master of the Jedi would want her agent back in a timely fashion. 

And Kadr’idan couldn’t exactly keep him so that he was ‘fashionably late.’ Certainly not if he wanted to avoid further scrutiny from superiors like the Grand Master, or his once-again favorable superiors among the SIS. And scrutiny could only make those ‘personal debriefings’ much harder to arrange.

“Our... absence... will be noticed,” Kadr’idan said, regret tinging his words.

Theron nodded in agreement, though he made no effort to pull away. He just... held close, as if he could hold the moment as easily as he and Kadr’idan were mutually holding one another.

Their respective services might be about to resume hostilities – or, at the least, reenter a cold war where hostilities were sure to be a result – but for the two of them... This was their peace.


End file.
